


Basement

by Thamys020



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Housesitting gone wrong, M/M, Voodoo, kinda creepy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-18 10:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thamys020/pseuds/Thamys020
Summary: Part of an AU by Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara)After the traumatic death of his best friend, Arthur is called to housesit Francis' house.When he decides to dig deeper into the mysterious deaths surrounding him, he finds out more than he ever wanted to know.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDestineeZara/gifts).



> It's the season of giving, so here's my gift to Destinee Zara, go read Dolls for more context. Thanks for letting me use this AU!

_ “Francis is a bit creepy, don’t you think?” Alfred said.  _

_ “What on earth gave you that idea?!” Arthur snapped.  _ _   
_ _ “I dunno, everyone who even says ‘hi’ to you is brutally killed, except for Feli.” Alfred rubbed the wheel of the car.  _

_ “How is he?” Arthur asked.  _ __   
_ “They took him off life support before I left.” _ __   
_ “What does that have to do with Francis?”  _ _   
_ _ “Feli was coming to visit you, right? Ludwig just happened to be driving. He’s a careful driver, and just as Feli unbuckles--the one time Feli unbuckles his seatbelt in a moving car, you know how scared he is-- to get his thing of pasta, Ludwig  _ somehow _ loses control of the car and hits a railway. And that somehow causes the bottom half of the compartment to fall on Feliciano’s head and have Ludwig,  _ Ludwig __ , pitched out the windshield. That’s not a coincidence.” Alfred said. 

_ “And what do you think Francis did?”  _ _   
_ _ “Voodoo.”  _

_ Arthur cackled. “Voodoo. You’re bloody stupid. Voodoo?”  _ _   
_ _ “Mattie lived with him, he said Francis studied Voodoo for years.” Alfred said, staring at the road. _

_ “I honestly have a hard time believing that.”  _ _   
_ _ “Honestly, a lot of these deaths that surround people you know and love are slightly more suspicious than most. One death of a person you know? That’s an accident. Two deaths? Coincidence. The death of your entire family? Suspicious.”  _

_ Arthur frowned. “I don’t believe you.”  _ _   
_ _ “That’s fine.” Alfred said. “I mean, it’s all been accidental right? If Francis has been murdering people it’s be pinned on someone el--SHIT!!”  _

***

As hard as Arthur tried, he couldn’t erase the look of pure horror on Alfred’s face as the car spun, the glass slicing their skin, and the sickening noise of a head being almost entirely removed.

_ God _

But almost as hard to forget was their conversation. 

Francis wouldn't hurt his family like that. 

Francis wouldn't hurt Alfred like that. 

...would he? 

Arthur shook his head, he was  _ not _ going to think like that. Francis, his sweet, charming Francis would never hurt anybody.    
Not Alfred, not Ivan ( _ \--that was a bloody mess right there, no one wears scarves anymore-- _ ), not Allistor, Owen, Liam, or Patrick ( _ \--his family, his flesh and blood-- _ ), not Ludwig, or Feliciano. 

But an insistent little voice kept nagging him.  _ If Francis is innocent, why did he have that look when he saw Matthew hugging you? If Francis is innocent, why hasn’t he mourned?  _

***

“Hello?”    
“ _ Allo, mon ange! Arthur, I’ll be out of town for a week, could you watch my house? _ ” Francis crooned. 

“You usually have Matt watch it, what happened to him?” Arthur said, dread mounting in his chest. 

“ _ Oh, Mattieu? Non, he is down with something. He is also very busy with Alfred’s funeral, I cannot put that responsibility on him. Mon ange, may you please watch my house? _ ” 

Arthur sighed. Matthew was fine, he was being irrational. 

“Of course.” He said. “Anything.”    
_ “Thank you! Now I have to go, the taxi is here and the driver is very impatient. Au revoir! _ ” 

***   
Francis had a nice house, Arthur noted. There were very few doors, and most of the few were left unlocked, with little notes for him. 

On the basement door:  _ Do not enter, a storage room is of no interest to you, mon ange! ~Francis _

Pantry:  _ Do not worry about replacing what you eat. I can easily buy more. ~Francis _

Garden:  _ Enjoy the views, Arthur! I work hard ~Francis _

The basement door however was more interesting. It was triple locked, and other than a double-locked window Arthur once saw on his way in, there was no other way to see in. 

What could be in there? He had wondered on the first day before going about his business, occasionally calling Matthew to check in, to which he only responded about 10% of the time. 

Gilbert had come over once or twice to say hi, to check the plants, to drink some of Francis’ wine. 

On the fifth day, Arthur had decided to go into the basement. 

He had searched the house, and in a picture frame of him, were three keys.    
First lock. 

Did he really want to do this? 

Second lock. 

Francis was going to be so angry. 

Third lock. 

The door swung open invitingly. 

Arthur turned on the light and descended down the stairs.

Slowly, slowly. The stairs creaked. 

Three more stairs.    
_ Go forward. You have to know. _

_ I have to know. _

Arthur took three steps. 

The first thing he noticed was the bench, neatly placed in front of a table.    
Next was the red circle on it. The sewing equipment sticking out of a basket. 

Then, an altar. 

A doll that looked--bloody hell, it was  _ him _ \--sitting on a shelf. Beneath it was a pile of--

Arthur walked over to the pile of dolls, sifting through them. One, with a cowlick, whos head was almost completely severed, full of pins, and glasses, it was  _ Alfred _ . 

Sifting a bit more erratically he found his brothers, all mauled by pins, ripped open, Ludwig, mauled with pins, Feliciano with his head bashed in, Ivan, almost ripped apart, only recognizable by his scarf. 

All positioned beneath the altar like offerings to a god. 

Something caught his eye, a doll almost finished, with glasses, curly hair and-- _ Matthew _ . 

Francis had killed already and Matthew was next in line. 

Arthur felt sick. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just churning out another chapter before the holidays.

Arthur grabbed the Matthew doll and ran back up the stairs. Triple-locking the door, putting the keys back and he sat down, staring at the Matthew doll. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” He asked the doll. “The police aren’t gonna believe me.” 

The doll stared at the ceiling. 

Suddenly his phone rang. 

_ Matthew  _ The caller ID read. 

With shaking hands, Arthur answered. 

“Hello?” 

“ _ Hey Arthur. Just checking in. You’ve been checking in on me, so it’s only fair I check in. How have you been? _ ” 

“I’ve been better.” Arthur said. “Has...uh...Francis mentioned taking Voodoo?”    
_ “Yeah, actually. He said when he was down in New Orleans he learned. Why?” _ _  
_ “I...uh...found the basement.” Arthur said. “He killed them. Francis killed them. And you had a doll.”

“ _ What? Francis made me a doll? A voodoo doll? And he--where did you see this? _ ” 

“It’s in the basement.” Arthur said, voice catching. “I’m holding your d-doll right now.”

“ _...And…? _ ”    
“Alfred had a doll.” Arthur choked out. 

A soft thunk and a silence indicated Matthew had dropped the phone.    
“Matt?” He asked.

He heard a muffled sob that was followed up by more sobbing. 

“Matt, do you need me to come over?”   
Sniffle. “ _ I-I can’t believe he would do this. Why?! _ ” A long drawn-out wail that wrenched at Arthur’s heart followed by more sobbing. 

“Should I come over?” 

“ _ Yeah t-thanks. _ ” A hiccup, a sniffle. Arthur hung up. 

He put the Matthew doll in his pocket, got in his car and drove over to Matthew’s house. He knocked on the door. 

Matthew answered, looking terrible. His eyes were tinted with red and shadowed with black. His hair was a mess of curls. 

Arthur held out his arms and Matthew collapsed into them, sobbing into his shirt. Arthur hugged him tight to his chest. 

 

After a few minutes of this, Matthew pushed away, wiped his eyes and let Arthur in the house. 

“You said I had a doll.” He said. Arthur handed him the doll. Matthew studied it. 

“It’s true. He really wanted to kill me. But…” He twined a finger in the doll’s standalone curl. “...Why?” 

Arthur was about to shrug before he remembered the hospital, hugging Matthew, Francis’ dark look, Alfred’s conversation.

“Me.” He said. “You were hugging me.” 

“What?”    
“When Alfred--” He bit his lip. “We were talking. He said it was weird that all the people killed had had some interaction with me. And he said Francis took voodoo.” 

Matthew unwound his finger before twining the stray curl back around. 

“I always knew he was smarter than he let on.” He sniffled. “What now?” 

“I don’t know.” Arthur said. 

They sat in silence for a while before Matthew got up. 

“We send the dolls.” He said. 

“What?”    
“We send the families of the people murdered the dolls and an explanation.” Matthew said. 

Francis would be so angry. 

“But Francis--”    
Matthew paused. 

“He won’t know. I’ll say I did it. I snuck into the house--” 

“I can’t let you put yourself in danger!!”    
“I can do this.”  Matthew said. “They deserve to know how their loved ones died.” 

Arthur licked his lips. "But Francis--" 

"Francis is a murderer." Matthew finished. "He deserves justice." 

Arthur paused. 

"...okay..." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I need to know  
> should I get Francis' perspective?  
> Or Lovino/Romano?  
> Or continue from Arthur's perspective?  
> Let me know in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you liked it.


End file.
